Rune Maclure was waiting in her office, chatting with Superintendent Overbeck, when Ava entered. Overbeck was stirring a cup of coffee slowly, all eyes, in a manner that made Ava glad she hadn’t brought DS Lively to the meeting with her. The sergeant was feeling insecure enough without watching the woman he was inexplicably drawn to flirting with a man as charming as Maclure. Overbeck, on the other hand, had called for coffee to be delivered in cups with saucers that actually matched and which weren’t even chipped, something of a miracle in a police station. Ava steeled herself for the usual onslaught of insults.

‘Ava, we’ve been waiting for you,’ Overbeck purred.

So it was all first names and smiles, then. Overbeck must have been massively overselling herself, Ava decided.

‘Mr Maclure, apologies for keeping you. Detective Superintendent, I can update you later. We just need to view an exhibit. It shouldn’t take long. I can come to your office immediately afterwards.’

‘Not at all,’ Overbeck said. ‘You know I prefer a hands-on approach. Why don’t I stay and work through this with you? I might be of assistance.’

Ava tried not to sigh audibly. If Overbeck couldn’t see how laughable the use of the phrase ‘hands-on’ was, with cerise nails that could easily be classified an offensive weapon, then she really was operating police command from a different planet.

‘I’d really appreciate that, ma’am,’ she said. ‘Let me just set up the laptop.’

‘So, how long have you lived in Edinburgh, Rune?’ Overbeck continued.

‘All my adult life,’ Maclure said. ‘It gets into your blood, I think. You can travel the world, but if you’re from Scotland, she calls you back sooner or later.’

‘I couldn’t agree more. Where did you get your degree?’

‘St Andrews,’ Maclure smiled, catching Ava’s eye-roll as Overbeck was taking a sip of coffee.

Overbeck was forgetting she was dealing with a psychotherapist. Her body language alone was enough to send any sensible man running.

‘Here we go,’ Ava said quickly. ‘You said there was a man laughing on the bridge when you were with Stephen Berry. It took a while, but we managed to trace other people on the bridge by their car registration plates. Someone was filming from behind this male.’ She brought the footage up on the screen. ‘He filmed the laughter and some shouting. Can you confirm that this is the voice you heard?’

Ava pressed play. Maclure watched it once, asked to replay it and listened again, leaning in to study the screen.

‘Yes, absolutely, that’s what I heard; although I was some distance away and the wind was muffling it. Can I just ask—’